


A Fearsome Flame

by Cuzosu



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff to angst in three sentences, Fox shifter Obi-Wan, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Young Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-21 06:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19369051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuzosu/pseuds/Cuzosu
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn picks up a fox kit with a broken leg after one of his missions and brings it home to heal.The next time he returns to the Temple, he publicly disputes with Yoda about a certain old troll's insistence that he take another apprentice.The time after that, he comes back with a Padawan he'd previously rejected. There is, understandably, a lack of trust in their relationship...but if anything's going to improve, Jinn will have to do what he dislikes most: admit he was wrong and make amends.Luckily, Padawan Kenobi has allies in his corner, including some even he doesn't know he can count on.





	A Fearsome Flame

**Author's Note:**

> *cough* Nine thousand words is possibly a bit much for a first chapter, but I've got this much already typed up and my muse wants to drag me back to this fic. Don't ask me when I'll have more ready, because I've got two fics with deadlines and set word counts to write, and if I'm lucky, maybe the next chapter won't be quite as long--and you guys won't have so many tiny scenes; sorry, it was supposed to be somewhat of a prologue and then I said, "Eh, forget finding a good spot to end the chapter. This fic is ridiculous and amazing and angsty and deserves to be shared." (No, I'm not joking. Every time I reread this, I go, "Wow!! How the hell did I write that?! And can I do it again??") 
> 
> For the record, I'm posting this while exhausted, possibly a little giddy because of how tired I am, and PMSing. If you catch mistakes, please, point them out to me. Anyone reading this who knows me on Tumblr or Discord is absolutely welcome to start a conversation about this insanity. It's catching, possibly as contagious as cat!Jango, and I'm not sorry for it. I am, however, caught in a web of, "Oh, shit, that would be perfect for this or that fic!" and enjoy being able to complain about it. XD
> 
>  
> 
> So, okay. I started this thinking, "What if Obi-Wan was a shapeshifter of some kind? How would that affect things?" and my muse promptly threw a modified version of Bandomeer at me. Whiiiich is where this fic started originally, and I had to go back and _completely_ rewrite the beginning and merge it back into the middle of this chapter, so I hope the flow doesn't seem too choppy! 
> 
> Also, on a serious note, be aware you may get emotional whiplash from reading this. In at least one spot, it goes from heartwarming to horrifying in three sentences. I counted. 
> 
> SPOILERS IN THIS NEXT BIT!! 
> 
> After I got the Bandomeer bit down and was working on the amends part, Qui-Gon had the bright idea to ask Quinlan for help. Muse!Quin all but seizes fox!Obi-Wan and holds him close, snarls at Jinn, _"MINE!! Mine, and you can't have him!"_  
>  Qui-Gon, ever oblivious to things he doesn't care to see, misses the territorial, lovelorn way the words are spoken and reacts as if the two youths are just friends. Which, technically, is all they are...so far. "He will need good friends," agrees the Master, and _blatantly encourages them to spend more time together, even going so far as to volunteer to tell everyone they had his permission._ (As I said: oblivious.)  
> And that's how I found out I had a pairing in this fic.

Soft cries split the silence and drew the attention of one notorious, rebellious Jedi Master. Jinn followed the sound to its source and discovered a fox kit with a broken hind leg. He kept himself quiet on the approach, not wanting to scare the small creature. 

Hair contained in a loose braid today, which ensured not only that he didn't get caught in the plant life, but also that his hair sustained less damage, Qui-Gon bent and scooped up the young creature, which startled. Jinn cradled it to his chest as he used the Force to assess the injury. "Hello, little one," he crooned softly. "I don't see your family anywhere and you were crying for long enough they should have arrived. How about you come with me?"

There was still soothing to do, because picking the fox up had understandably spooked it, but that took less than five minutes. Well before he reached his ship again, Qui-Gon had a fluffy and content, if pained, fox cuddled against him.

For the first time since Xanatos had Fallen, Jinn felt a pleasant satisfaction.

  
  
  


The fox kit drifted in and out of awareness, lulled by that sense of warmth and comfort and safety wrapped around him. He wasn’t concerned overly much; his parents would have been sure of his welfare before letting him leave with this giant two-footed being. Besides, it wasn’t like the being having only two feet scared him, either, since his parents sometimes took such forms.  _ This one has a beard like Dad, _ noted the little fox,  _ but smells sad.  _ It made him want to comfort the other, so he burrowed until he was as comfortable as possible, broken leg securely placed.

A sharp earthy scent invaded his nose, so he lifted his head. The beeping was foreign to him, and so many things smelled strongly—old clothes, oil, and metal, mostly. Part of the thing in front of him moved and if he hadn’t been clasped securely in Rescuer’s arms, he’d have bolted. Whatever this thing was, it was several times larger than Rescuer and reeked of wet, sharp earth and cold fire.

It didn’t bother Rescuer at all; the tall, long-furred being did something which washed reassurance over him and strode confidently inside the gaping maw.

Obi-Wan squinted against unnatural light and bristled. What kept him from growling was the knowledge that surprise was the best weapon he had against this loud and smelly thing he couldn’t fit his mouth around to bite.

  
  
  


Qui-Gon felt the little fox bristle and swept calm over it; ships were strange and new and potentially dangerous, so defensive behavior was not a surprise. “I want a look at your leg first, and then shall we see what there is to eat before we lift off?”

It was a rhetorical question, of course, and the tall Jedi ducked into the ship with an easy grace. If he also scratched the fox’s ears absently while he ensured the door shut behind him and started the engines warming up, that was his own business.

“Next stop: medical,” Qui-Gon stated with a wry smile at pointed ears.

Minimal fighting, thankfully, although keeping hold of such a diminutive creature so determined to escape had required use of the Force. Scanning had nearly been an exercise in foresight; this young fluffy thing had entirely too much agility if it could still duck and dodge like that. Now there was a cast. The fox was quickly discovering how flexible that was not and resorted to chewing in hopes of removal. That garnered a stern, “No!” and a light rap on the nose, which startled a squeaky snarl from the furball. Said furball promptly tipped over when it forgot the cast and tried to jump aside; the resultant grumbling had Jinn covering a smile.

“Being injured and immobile is the worst,” agreed the Jedi master. “But I did promise you food.”

Raiding the kitchen found suitable meals for both of them, though Jinn was grateful the fox was still so tiny and wouldn’t be able to eat even half the supplies currently stashed on the ship.

  
  
  


Jinn cursed himself for a fool as he ransacked the ship, searching for an errant fox. “What kind of exploring can it do with an injured leg and that stiff cast?” the Jedi mocked his prior thoughts. “It will be fine; I can fill out a report and come back to sleep without it taking off.”

So far, he’d taken apart the entire bedroom: bunk, storage spaces and his own belongings. No fox.

The second room graced with his attention was the ship’s combined kitchen and commissary. Edibles had apparently not been of enough interest to lure the furry rascal in; still no sign of the fox.

He was rushing past the engines, hoping to find the little creature tucked away among the ship’s storage containers, when the Force prodded him. Jinn paused, concerned, and cast his gaze about the corridor. Nothing. What was the Force prompting him to see?

Movement. A flicker of red in the shadowed recesses under the raised portion of the engine.

Qui-Gon smiled, rueful and fond. “Scamp,” he chided. One ear twitched at him, but evidently the small troublemaker no longer associated him with any fear at all.

Fetching the fox was easy enough, now that he’d found the escape artist, although the cleanup was going to be a hassle.  _ But that’s what I get for not putting things back as I finished searching areas, I suppose, _ the Jedi master thought to himself. He didn’t even want to think about the engine grease now coating parts of both of them.

Cradling the tiny creature close to his chest, Qui-Gon helped it adjust for maximum comfort, stretching out until the leg in that solid cast draped over the other side of his thumb and whiskers tickled along the inside of his arm. It was heartwarming…and humbling.

The Living Force in nature was awe inspiring, especially when there was trust involved.

A soft sigh puffed air along his arm; Qui-Gon glanced down and smiled sadly. It was almost enough for him to forget the recent loss of his padawan to the dark side.

Shaking unhappy musings from his head, Jinn thought ahead.  _ Mace is going to be livid.  _ It was almost enough to make him grin; he hadn’t enraged Mace Windu since Xanatos’ Fall. The other master was overdue.

Qui-Gon ruffled the fox’s fur, then stood. “I think it’s time for a good nap,” he admitted. Ransacking a ship was exhausting; he would clean up the mess after some rest. And having another living creature sleep near him would probably be good for them both.

  
  
  


Finally, finally, the noisy thing stopped and the stench of burnt metal eased. Obi-Wan sat, sideways with his hurt leg outstretched, content for the moment to remain where Rescuer had put him. Rescuer pressed some things, flicked others, and slowly cooling metal complained. It made his ears lay back, but curiosity overwhelmed the discomfort of echoes in a small space.

It wasn’t long before Rescuer hefted him again. They exited from the same place they had originally entered the thing. Obi-Wan was expecting to still be around his home, somewhere recognizable, but they weren’t.

He didn’t know where they were, just that it was loud and there were too many smells, and then some tall being with no fur started snarling at Rescuer. Uneasy, Obi-Wan tucked himself further into the crook of Rescuer’s arm. It was safer…until No-Fur jabbed at him.

  
  
  


Qui-Gon remained stoic in the face of Mace’s ranting…until he got too aggressive with a finger pointed at the little fox and it fluffed up and retaliated. “You deserved that,” he informed the other master sternly. “Terrifying any youngling you’ve just met is uncalled for, Master Windu, and was entirely unnecessary.”

Mace’s mouth opened, shut, and he sighed. “I didn’t mean to scare the fox,” admitted the Councilor. “You, on the other hand, need to do some deep thinking.” He lifted his finger for examination and heaved another sigh. “Looks like we’re both heading to the healers, now, because who knows if your latest adoptee is carrying diseases we should worry about. I had other things to do today.”

“Shouldn’t have stuck your finger in the face of a terrified wild animal,” was Jinn’s opinion. He resettled the fox, who had used his other paws to propel himself half out of Qui-Gon’s grasp and was blatantly glaring at Mace. It was almost amusing, watching fluffed fur and a snarl on a creature that size with one limb in a cast. Sheer, bloody-minded defiance.

“Unsympathetic ass,” muttered Mace. “Why the hell are we friends, again?”

“Because I can ignore your Council position.” And if there was smugness in that sentence, it was honest and probably deserved.

With a baleful glare, Windu set off. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

It was Qui-Gon’s turn to sigh. “Healers.” He spared a rueful glace for the fox. “At least it’s not me this time. Sorry, little one.”

  
  
  


Obi-Wan burrowed tightly against Rescuer, shivering. His fur still bristled and refused to settle. He didn’t know what they’d used to bite him with, but it was annoying and he would have bitten them right back if he hadn’t been pinned down. And that caused him to eye Rescuer with no little unhappiness, because he’d  _ trusted  _ the giant!

Rumbling low in his throat, he thought seriously of biting Rescuer, this time. It was tempting, so tempting. Eventually, though, he decided to wait. He could always put fangs to good use later, like he had with No-Fur. 

  
  
  


Qui-Gon didn’t even think about finding another place for the fox; he took it to his own quarters, immediately after the trip to the healers. Speaking of, Jinn glanced down and saw fur still ruffled, a distinctly unhappy wild creature. “Sorry,” he apologized again.

His words were met with a low grumble and more shuffling as it attempted to get comfortable while still riled. Success was limited.

One careful finger rubbed the fox’s ear; he almost got bitten for his trouble. Difficult to be mad when he could understand that reaction, though. The Jedi master sighed and set the little creature down on the floor, then went to scrounge up meals. There wasn’t much in the residence, so he’d have to go down to the commissary. A quick glance at his companion showed big ears and small body investigating his couch, which was a relief.

“Okay,” he told the fox, observing those ears twitch at the sound of his voice, “I’m going to get food. I’ll be right back; be good while I’m gone, please.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought that the way the fox’s tail flicked was dismissing his words.

  
  
  


Opening the door, Qui-Gon saw chaos. It was almost a welcome distraction from the thoughts of Xanatos which had caught up to him outside what used to be their quarters. Almost.

He’d expected a bit of a mess; he’d left a wild creature in his quarters, unsupervised. What he hadn’t expected was the sheer amount of destruction.

Pots and pans on the floor, drawers opened and spilling contents everywhere, what looked like explosions of powders—flour and sugar, possibly also cornstarch, and Jinn blessed the Force that the cleaning chemicals apparently stank enough they’d been left alone. There was stuffing all over the living room from the couch pillows, one of the shelves had been knocked over—and he’d like to know how, because one tiny fox shouldn’t have been able to do that—

“Shit!” Jinn’s eyes narrowed, focused on his favorite book, which he’d bought in genuine, antique paper…and which was tattered and littering shreds of slobbery debris beside the low table. He glared at the fox. “You little bastard, this much mess was on purpose!”

Pointed ears laid back, gray eyes glinted cruelly at the master. Standoff. And then red and white shifted, tail flicking to one side with agitation, then the other, and the fox bolted for cover as fast as his cast-bound leg would allow. Qui-Gon swore and leaped for the creature, using the Force instinctively.

That was a mistake; sharp teeth pierced his hand and a tiny snarl bubbled from the bristling form he’d just caught. But Jinn refused to let go just yet, knowing he’d be in for even more hell if he didn’t somehow make amends. “I’m sorry,” he stressed to the upset youngling in his grip. “It wasn’t meant to hurt you, we were trying to help. We just…went about it the wrong way, apparently.” A gimlet glare and quiet, rumbling growl let him know he was in no way forgiven yet. The master sighed. “…Let’s eat.”

If he was to have no peace for however long the fox was angry with him, at least they could both have full stomachs.

  
  
  


Obi-Wan crouched over his food, territorial and snarling every time the humanoid’s hand moved in his direction. He hadn’t been doing this before, but he’d trusted Rescuer and been caught by surprise because of it. That would not happen again.

His mind flashed to red and black fur in the brush, his last sight of his parents before he was taken. Obi-Wan missed them terribly right now, but they had known he was hurt and clearly thought the tall being was better able to help than they were. Still didn’t make him any happier about it.

Nausea rose, bile surging to the back of his throat.

Whatever had bitten him, whatever Rescuer had pinned him in place for, was making him feel…off. His head was spinning a bit, he wanted to throw up, and he ached. This was ridiculous! Why had his parents let him be taken?

As his emotions flared, objects rose in the air.

  
  
  


Qui-Gon frowned as his belongings—and their food, damn it!—started floating. Eyes closing, he rubbed his temple and sighed. “Whichever padawan is getting out of control, I hope their master takes them in hand soon,” he muttered. Then he gathered up the fox, wrapping it in a soothing cocoon of care and comfort through the Force. He didn’t notice the belongings settling shortly thereafter, because he left the room, fox cradled close to his chest, and deliberately turned his attention away from his quarters.

It was time to see about things to entertain the fox so it wouldn’t demolish his belongings when he had to leave the rooms.

They ended up at a pet store, where the ball of fluff in his arms would have spurred a riot if Qui-Gon hadn’t been a Jedi master and well able to soothe them all. “You,” Jinn told the fox firmly as they exited the building, “are a troublemaker.” But fondness welled up inside him, because Qui-Gon Jinn was a notorious rebel with a fondness for well placed impertinence and the way the fox had sassed the ack dog had been sheer genius.

With a quick scritch and ruffling of fur, they were off again. This time, they stopped in at Dex’s diner. Stepping inside brought noise and fragrant odors; he hoped nothing spooked the fox, but continued forward. He’d grab a booth and enable the privacy shielding if he had to. It had been too long since he’d shared a meal and conversation with Dex as it was.

For his part, Dex called out a greeting so exuberant it bordered on belligerent, then returned to the back until he brought Qui-Gon’s order out. “You have a growth,” noted the Besalisk.

“An adoptee, according to Master Windu,” countered Jinn, serenity unmarred.

Dex snorted. “Well, it has ears but presumably no recording devices. What’d ya drop in for this time, you rogue?”

Qui-Gon grinned. “To check on my fellow reprobates, of course!”

Their discussion soon turned to more serious matters, although Dex pointedly asked why he’d brought a bite-sized scrap of fur with him.

“I can’t very well leave him in my quarters, yet,” explained the humanoid. The fox, tucked in a corner of the booth, lazed with its head down, eyes slitted open to observe sneakily and ears twitching at new sounds. “Picked him up this last trip out, but between an aggressive greeting from a Councilor and post-healer upset, the rascal was mad enough to ransack the place while I fetched dinner. I still can’t decide if I’m astounded he did so much damage in so little time or amazed he didn’t destroy the couch nearly as thoroughly as anything else.”

The admission made Dex chuckle, which sounded enough like a growl to momentarily alarm the fox. “You bring home all these wild things, Jinn, and from everything I hear, most of them don’t appreciate you nearly as much as you do them. Though I’m kind of surprised this is the first furry adoptee I’ve seen from you.”

“Usually it’s the bigger ones that are capable of mass destruction,” Qui-Gon countered wryly. “I don’t keep those at home; we have animal healers to take care of creatures in need.”

“That’s why you kept the fox, I’m sure,” grinned the Besalisk.

Jinn shrugged. “He’s cute. It’s hard to resist that combination of fluff and puppy eyes. And I wasn’t expecting to come back and find cooking powders all over the floors, shredded cloth everywhere, and my favorite book gnawed on.”

Dex glanced between Jedi and fox. “…is he teething?” he finally asked.

Considering the healers said he was in good health apart from the leg, which had been Force healed as much as it could be so long after the injury, then put in another cast? “Kriff you, too,” was the only response he had. Laughing undermined his efforts, however, and Dex was soon feeding the fox, as well.

“If I didn’t run a restaurant, I’d be asking to keep him. Pretty good company.”

Their chatter meandered over several topics, but when the dinner rush began to arrive, they bid farewell. Qui-Gon hefted the fox, which bared fangs at him but didn’t even attempt to bite. Probably the full stomach, mused the Jedi. “Time to see if the items I ordered have been delivered, hm?”

By the time they returned, a large crate lay outside his door. Qui-Gon resigned himself to wearing out the fox with toys before he tried to put together anything like a little kennel for when he had to leave the fox home alone.

  
  
  


A knock sounded at the door, followed by the quick brush of Tahl making herself known across Qui-Gon’s shields. “I know you’re in there, Jinn!” she called loudly.

_ My neighbors are probably not fond of her visits,  _ mused the tall man, moving to let her inside. “Nice of you to drop by without notice, as usual,” he informed her dryly.

“If you weren’t so antisocial, I wouldn’t have to surprise you,” the other Jedi countered. Then she frowned. “What creature did you bring home this time?”

“Fox.” Qui-Gon let the door shut behind his friend and they both wandered into the living room. “Scuff your feet a bit,” he advised. “I’m afraid I’ve left toys all over the floor, trying to wear the little one out.”

Ooh, she knew that tone! Tahl bit back a grin. “Saying he’s as contrary as you are?”

“Thanks,” he snarked.

She knew that glare, too, even if she couldn’t see it anymore. “You’re welcome!” she grinned. And dropped easily onto the couch. “Sounds like you deserve each other!”

Jinn’s glare intensified. “Tahl, I love you like a sister. If you like the fox so much,  _ you  _ take him.”

Laughing in his face wasn’t the most polite thing to do, but of the two of them, she was not the one who tended to get political missions. Tahl most often landed research tasks.

By the time her laughter wound down, a cold, wet nose started to make its presence known. “Hello, little one,” she murmured, smile creasing her face. Her hand rose, smoothed over slightly fluffed fur, fingers scratching lightly at big ears. “Qui, he’s adorable. Have you named him?”

“I don’t intend to keep him,” admitted the other master. “His leg was broken; wanted to let him heal up and then see if the Temple had room for a small stray.”

Tahl hummed softly in response, thinking, weighing possibilities in the Force. He might try to leave the fox, but the Force indicated it would not be permanent. This fox would hold a place of importance in her friend’s life.

For the first time since Xanatos Fell, Tahl could feel that Qui-Gon Jinn was going to recover. She took a deep breath. “I think I would like a cup of tea, please.” And she was grateful he allowed the change of topic and didn’t comment on her teary smile.

The fox nudged his head under her hand and she took the hint, petting and scratching, glad for this one’s discovery and rescue and the events that would bring about. 

  
  
  


After the strange woman visited, Obi-Wan cheered up again. Despite lingering pain and a stiff cast, he persistently trailed Rescuer everywhere. Doing so meant he got to investigate all the scents and meet new beings. Most of the beings were fun, and even No-Fur was kind, so the young fox decided the anger had most likely not been aimed at him and generously forgave the finger. He demonstrated his forgiveness by spending fully half the day snubbing Rescuer while No-Fur visited, napping on the warm brown not-fur all these beings seemed to wear. 

The scents, though, those caught his attention. The rooms Rescuer denned in had another being’s scent ingrained, but that odor was fading. Greenery was the other main smell in the den area, which made it easier for him to adjust to his own sudden move, but it didn’t keep him from noticing that Rescuer stared off into the distance at times, sad and lonely and hurt. 

Distraction, the fox decided, would help.  _ Though it would be easier if I could use my other form,  _ he mused, annoyed. 

  
  
  


Tahl bit her lip against the laughter she could feel welling up; it had been so long since she’d felt Qui-Gon’s temper flaring this wildly! “What...what did he do?” she queried, tone deliberately neutral. 

He wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “That little furball is gone as soon as his leg heals,” the tall Jedi snapped. “Apparently I wasn’t giving him enough attention; he pissed on my comm when I left the room.” 

She managed to hold back the laughter, but the smile grew and widened until her cheeks ached. “Don’t you need a waterproof comm on missions, anyway?” she asked innocently. 

Jinn leveled a baleful glare at her, to no noticeable effect. “I haven’t required one in years, no. Not since—” 

The abrupt cutoff, she knew, was because he’d been about to admit that he hadn’t needed a waterproof comm since Xanatos improved enough to cease getting dunked at least once every time he neared water on a mission. It’s bittersweet, because this is healing, that he could almost unthinkingly respond with something about Xanatos and not immediately be upset, but...he still hurt enough to stop talking, and Xanatos’ Fall was never his fault. Instead of reminding him yet again that he wasn’t to blame, she gently told him, “I think the little fox is trying to distract you.” She paused a moment, then queried mischievously, “Is it working, then?” 

“Tahl,” he grumbled, “stop aiding and abetting that little terror.” 

Even as she laughed in his face, she promised herself to assist with anything she suspected might improve her friend’s emotional state. What else were friends for? 

  
  
  


It was a fun time. They were almost family...and then the cast came off. Rescuer took him to an area filled with plant life and encouraged him to explore, but when he returned with the intention of sharing his enthusiasm, Rescuer was gone.

The fox kit sat there for several hours, ears down, fur limp,  _ hoping _ . Someone else came by with food, but his appetite had vanished. No family, no Rescuer? This loneliness  _ ached. _ No wonder Rescuer smelled of hurt and sadness; he had no one, either.  _ Then why did he let me go? _

When he couldn't find an adequate answer, the kit ate a small meal's worth from the most recent dish left for him, took a couple strips that would fit in his mouth, and went wandering. He left the green area entirely, looking for something to clothe his other form.

Two days later, a green being about his own size sat down next to him. “Lost, are you?”

He gave the other a wary, confused look. “No.” By now, he knew the temple very well. He also know that Rescuer hadn't been home since the day he'd dropped him off in the green area.

“Find your family, we could.”

That garnered another wary look. “My family let my rescuer bring me here.” He'd seen his parents in the brush, however briefly, and he knew it had been a choice. They could have shifted and confronted him, or just called on one of their larger wild friends and used the distraction to fetch him home. “My leg was hurt.” And anyway,  _ he  _ didn't know the way to his home. Rescuer did, but he wasn't here anymore.

“Ah.” Those large ears twitched, but body language told the kit the older being was thinking. “...wish to stay, do you?”

The option of seeing Rescuer again when the man came back to his home held major appeal for the lonely kit. “Yes.”

“Name, you have?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He graced the older being with a look of exaggerated patience. It got him a chuckle, at least.

“Yoda, I am.”

 

 

 

Obi-Wan packed his things , shock and hurt roiling even as his hands remained steady. Rescuer not only didn't remember him, Rescuer had  _ rejected  _ him. He'd long since figured out that the one who had helped him while his leg was injured as a kit was Master Jinn; he'd thought—hoped—that the master would recognize him at last, or at least take him as a padawan so he could facilitate the remembrance himself....

_ No,  _ he thought, shaking his head.  _ I can't think on it.  _ And just because the Jedi were sending him away didn't mean he couldn't do good—although he didn't know why they were sending him with the AgriCorp when his skills tended toward the mechanical—and, clearly, the only ones who could be trusted with his other form were his friends.

Garen had taken him aside and hugged him. “Leaving the Temple doesn't mean you can't do what the Force tells you. You're a Jedi even if the Order doesn't think so.”

Bant also hugged him, whispering fiercely, “You're one of the best people I know, Obi-Wan. If they can't see that, that's  _ their fault.” _

But it was Quinlan who surprised them all. “Giving up doesn't look good on you, Kenobi. The Force works in mysterious ways, remember?”

He'd managed a facsimile of a grin in response, terribly obvious to all of his friends, but they'd meditated together one more time...and the Force seemed to think it wouldn't be the last. It was hard to hold onto hope, though, when he was being sent away and had been so thoroughly rejected. The Force itself had told him Rescuer would teach him, and Rescuer....

_ Not thinking about it, _ he reminded himself firmly, then finished packing.

Boarding the transport to discover that Rescuer— _ Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn,  _ Obi-Wan reminded himself sternly,  _ he has no intention of helping me in this form, clearly— _ was also heading to Bandomeer was...disconcerting. Painful, yes, and with an undercurrent of hope and distrust entwined. 

He braced himself with a deep breath even as he paced forward to find a seat on the ship. Jedi had arranged for this transport; there would be no comfort but the Force.

It still stung to be so thoroughly dismissed. Jinn had rescued him years ago and now, neither recognized nor cared to know him.

Obi-Wan spent much of the flight in meditation, attempting to release his tangled emotions into the Force.

He still hadn't managed to let the Force take his roiling emotions, which embarrassed him slightly but also reminded him that he was still training, still learning. That lesson helped him take pirates boarding the ship with more equanimity.

_ If they leave me alone, unobserved, I can shift out of restraints,  _ he told himself firmly.

Unfortunately, that wasn't quite the way it happened. Being collared was offensive to his inner wild side, but that, at least, he was used to releasing to the Force and his Jedi companion didn't catch it. Obi-Wan shuffled closer to the man he'd once known as Rescuer, nervous and subconsciously seeking reassurance.

There was only one way out: the door. And it had sensors for the collars, which would trigger explosives in those collars...and, possibly, elsewhere.

_ It's going to take me a long time to feel safe underground again,  _ the boy admitted to himself. He looked around the enclosed space again, resignation and regret sinking in. But, because he didn't want to reveal his other form to someone who so clearly neither trusted nor cared to know him, Obi-Wan said something entirely different, intent on the master's reactions. “If I step through, you can save the others.” And he meant it, oh, he meant it...just not in the way the master understood it. He'd shift, lose the collar, go through, and once through, he was good enough with mechanical things to rewire one damn door.

Qui-Gon Jinn knew none of this. “No,” he told the boy. “No, there's another way.”

Obi-Wan still wasn't sure what exactly happened or why, but the Force told him he's where he's supposed to be. Despite being sent away, he was Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan. The fact that Yoda was wrong about how accepting his new master would be...that had so many layers of implications he got a headache just thinking about it. So he put it out of his mind to the best of his ability.

His friends were delighted to have him returned to them, though Vos was becoming insufferable. If Obi-Wan heard another “I told you so” any time in the next, oh,  _ year  _ from Quinlan, it would probably start a fight.

Yoda had also seemed pleased to see Obi-Wan returned, but the new padawan was no fool; if he'd been sent away early, that tiny, green, elderly master had a hand in it. He wasn't rude enough to bring it up to the Grandmaster himself, yet that didn't mean another rejection piled atop Jinn's didn't  _ hurt. _

One would think several centuries of experience with others would show better ways to handle younglings, but, unfortunately, that appeared not to be the case. Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed as he resolved to discover and enact some sort of retribution. It should fit the offense, of course. He’d think about it first.

Yoda met Qui-Gon in the halls deliberately, though even many a master might be forgiven mistaking his slow purpose for mere coincidence. “Ah, Master Jinn,” the little troll began. “Some time, it has been. Tea we should have, perhaps?”

“That is agreeable,” the tall master nodded. He saw through the ruse, long used to his elder's antics. Still, as Yoda was not amenable to sharing in public.... “Is there still a red in your quarters?”

“A red, there is,” came the amused rejoinder. “Free of duties you now are?”

He was.

Qui-Gon could only blink in perplexity at Yoda's confession. The Order's eldest had been close to the boy he'd just taken as padawan? And somehow fixing that relationship was also his business? How was it even his fault that said relationship had been damaged, anyway?

Yoda's ears lowered in sadness. “Meant for you, the Force showed he was. Knew better, you thought you did.”

Blue eyes narrowed. He hadn't been  _ ready  _ for a padawan, nor had he seen Obi-Wan clearly enough to feel it necessary! Yoda had insisted that he at least look at the initiates, or Qui-Gon would not have even done that! If he was to blame for his rejection, then Yoda could accept his own mistakes, surely? “Master, I am not certain that my own input would assist you. Perhaps you might seek him out and make amends?”

A gnarled hand clutched tighter at the gimer stick. “Amends I shall make,” agreed the old master, “but assistance could I use.”

_ He's not going to let me win this argument. _ Jinn eyed his grandmaster critically for a long moment, then sighed. “It will undoubtedly take time. He has much emotion to release to the Force.”

Yoda hummed a sad agreement. When he finished his tea, Qui-Gon rose to clean his cup and bowed himself out, resolved to think more on the matter.

  
  
  


Qui-Gon tried to figure out the boy he’d taken on as his padawan , but it was proving difficult. His behavior had turned caution into mistrust and however much young Obi-Wan trusted that his master would rather him alive, he’d had his face rubbed in the fact that he was not  _ wanted.  _ It had been an honest mistake--Xanatos’ betrayal had left emotional wounds—but that made it no less a problem.

_ Face it, Jinn,  _ the master told himself.  _ You kept your pain too close and let it hurt a child.  _ And it hurt him all over again, because that child should have been safe from him from the start. The Force rang with how right it was, that this boy should be his padawan--his, specifically, not merely another eventual Jedi.

With a sigh, the long-haired man rubbed his temple and mused. Maybe he should speak to the boy’s friends? Or another master? But who would be the best choice?

  
  
  


In the end, Jinn asked Tholme if he could borrow the other master’s padawan long enough for a conversation. He was working on the theory that a Shadow and his student would be more observant than the others. Tholme acquiesced. Quinlan, however, was not so cooperative.

“No, Master Jinn,” the Kiffar boy told him. There was a cold, hard look to his eyes, an almost feral fury, and his voice, though level, had a nasty bite in every word. “I will not betray my friend’s trust for you. You admit that you caused his lack of faith in you, which is better than I thought you’d do so soon; good...as far as it goes.” Eyes narrowed, Quinlan didn’t have to share his emotions through the Force for the master to be aware of them; it was in his stance, in his defense of his friend, in his hostility to one who ought to have been a mentor.

Jinn said nothing. He had no defense against this. More, he knew he deserved it. And...if anyone had the right to call him out for poor behavior, it was young Kenobi, who was too well-mannered to do so. It was fitting, then, that the one who  _ did  _ call him out was Kenobi’s friend.

“Going behind his back like this?” continued Vos, seething. “Asking his  _ friends  _ to betray his trust, when you are suffering the consequences of such a betrayal? I do not  _ like  _ you, Master Jinn, and if this continues, I never will.”

Silence rang in the room for a long moment, echoing harsh words in their heads. Finally, Qui-Gon bowed his head. “...I cannot say I appreciate being spoken to in such a way, Padawan Vos,” he told the youth, “but I did deserve it—and probably more.”

Quinlan blinked, the only sign of shock that showed through his righteous anger. But he didn’t move.

“Yet I will not apologize for coming to his friends for help with him, because I do not wish to err so again and Master Yoda is also, as you put it,  _ suffering consequences _ . Perhaps I pushed too hard; it is not...easy...to admit one’s mistakes and correct behaviors, and I am aware that the Council tends to send me into negotiations which are liable to be dangerous as much for my capacity with a ‘saber as for my silver tongue.” A wry smile invited amusement at himself, but the master continued. “Give me what you are comfortable giving me, or give me the name of another of my padawan’s friends who might assist me without giving away too much, please.”

They eyed one another in silence for a time. Finally, Quinlan snorted. “Humbling to have to ask for the assistance of children, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Jinn admitted—not easily, but with grace. “I am used to relying on other masters when I need assistance, or perhaps knights who,” and how did he say this without coming across as an absolute ass? “...who have let their friendships drift a bit and aren’t so adamant about defending them.”

“If you try to lecture me on attachment,” Vos began, only to be interrupted.

“Not my intention right now, no.” Jinn waved a hand dismissively. “Kenobi— _ Obi-Wan _ —deserves to have friends like you in his corner. He almost lost you and I have certainly not helped him feel sure of his place here. No. Be his friends, by all means. Be attached enough to help him overcome the dark emotions he’s feeling. I will actively encourage it.” He took a breath and met the padawan’s eyes solemnly. “Just...help me help him, please.”

Quinlan looked away, then grudgingly said, “Maybe.  _ If  _ you don’t mess it all up with him.” He flicked his gaze back, met the master’s eyes squarely. “Talk to Bant first. I don’t think you deserve to know anything about him, not yet. But Bant is pretty good at knowing what to say without letting too much slip and she’s not happy with you either.”

“Thank you.”

Teeth bared in what was probably not a smile, Quinlan managed to refrain from laughing. “Don’t thank me yet.”

They exchanged bows and parted. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, wondering what he’d just stepped into, but if it would help his padawan, Jinn would do it.

  
  
  


Garen looked down at his comm to read the message and frowned. “Don’t talk to Jinn, Quin? Really?”

Siri looked up. “What about that bastard?”

Reeft sighed. “I’m staying out of this. I won’t say anything about Obi, but I’m not tangling with a master over it, either.”

“Why would he ask about Obi? He didn’t want him.”

“Took him as a padawan anyway,” snarked Siri. “Obi hasn’t had a real smile since he got back. I bet it’s  _ his  _ fault.” Digging out her own comm, she contacted Quinlan herself.

“He made a mistake,” Garen pointed out, puzzled. “Everyone screws up sometimes.”

“Still not talking to him,” muttered Reeft. “Obi starts smiling again, I’ll reconsider.”

Siri grinned proudly at him, then frowned as she read Vos’ next message. “Gar, you’re not allowed to talk to Jinn either.”

“What?”

“Quin just sent him to Bant. Let her find the right words.”  _ And Vos and I can be more...interactive...with our paybacks. _

Garen graced her with a confused look, but when she met it with a hard stare, he shrugged. “Okay? I mean, I’m not happy with him either, but he can’t fix it unless he knows exactly what he did wrong.”

“We don’t know that he wouldn’t make Obi’s situation worse if he had all the info, either.”

Hard to dispute that, especially when Master Jinn had already messed up badly. “Point,” Garen conceded. “I’ll keep my mouth shut. You lot can meddle.”

Reeft sighed. “I’m staying out of it, too,” he reiterated.

Siri smirked. “I won’t talk to him for now.”

To Vos, Tachi sent three words:  _ Paybacks? I’m in. _

Quin’s response was no surprise at all.

  
  
  


Bant Eerin was both pleased and unhappy that one Master Qui-Gon Jinn knew to ask her for help with her friend. It was, however slightly, mollified by the fact that Quinlan had had the forethought to message her with a heads up. So she gazed sternly at the master standing before her.

“Padawan Vos said you might help me,” began the tall humanoid, “and that you would be circumspect about anything you don’t feel I should know right now.”

Two things convinced her to agree: her calling as a healer and the fact that he wasn’t attempting to pressure her into saying more than she felt comfortable with. “Quin sent a message ahead. You’re lucky I’m not in a class or observing healing at the moment.” She gestured for him to lead, saying, “I won’t speak on the subject you’re interested in where anyone can overhear, Master Jinn.”

They found an empty room in the library. Qui-Gon was grateful it was Tahl on duty, though he’d seen her head tilt in his direction and knew he was in for it. Tahl was going to hunt him down within the next week and badger him until he confided every little bit of news he had for her. But that was then; he shut and locked the door, circled the table and took the seat opposite of young Eerin.

“... There are some things that you need to know,” Bant conceded. Her expression indicated some unhappiness over acknowledging that. “First is that he responds well to being pushed to his limits in physical training and enjoys learning most subjects...but  _ because I said so  _ is not a good reason. He will listen to explanations and obey if there’s a good reason to;  _ because I said so  _ will never pass as a good reason to Obi-Wan.”

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly.  _ I hope the Force didn’t throw us together as some sort of irony. Maybe I can teach him how and when to rebel against the Council? _

“Second, it is not in him to leave people floundering in need if he can help.” It was how he’d managed to turn their group from acquaintances to close friends, after all. “Third, his humor. How do you feel about sass?”

He smiled faintly. “I take it sass is a firmly entrenched habit?” At her nod, he stated softly, “My track record against the Council speaks for itself, I should think; I am fond of well timed sass. But I do not like it used to make me look bad, which we may have to work on.”

Seemingly reassured, Bant took a moment to gather her thoughts again, then continued. “Fourth, he is adamant about loyalty. You are going to have to earn his.” She was kind enough not to say,  _ Especially after what you did to him,  _ but it was clear in every word anyway. “And pushing any of his friends to reveal more to you than we are comfortable with, no matter how slowly you feel it is progressing, will make your situation worse. But that loyalty is worth it.  _ He  _ is worth it. Fifth...he doesn’t have the stability he needs, yet. He is not…. Obi-Wan isn’t confident. Every adult he knows has betrayed or undermined him, so he doubts himself.”

“But he is not the problem,” mused Master Jinn. “That is what you mean, yes?”

Bant nodded firmly.

“... Thank you, Padawan Eerin. You have given me much to think about.” So caught up in his thoughts was Qui-Gon that he didn’t even ask if she had anything else to say.

Perhaps that was for the better, though, and the Mon Cal padawan decided that was all she’d say until her friend’s situation improved. She’d given Jinn five pieces of information to work with; that was enough for now.  _ Though I wonder what Quin said that made such a stubborn master willing to accept whatever I wanted to share.  _ Knowing Vos, it had been rude and liable to land him in trouble again.

  
  
  


Obi-Wan sat in the quarters he now shared with Master Jinn and fought nostalgia for simpler, furrier days. Why did humanoid forms come with so many complications, anyway?

An alert sounded on his comm, so he picked it up. A message from Bant?

_ Hey, Obi,  _ it read.  _ Jinn just dropped by. I don’t know what Quin said to him, but I think it worked. Only question is, how well? _

Now he was just confused. Why were Quin and Bant talking to his master? And what  _ did  _ Quin say? What did Bant say, for that matter?

Never mind, he knew better than to ask that last question; Bant had said all she was willing to for now. So he contacted Vos, instead. It was certainly not the most diplomatic he’d ever been, but he knew the Kiffar teen and he wouldn’t get answers any time soon if he wasn’t blunt.

_ I lost my temper a little,  _ Quinlan admitted. 

_ He came in really pushy and I just...no. Master or not, he doesn’t get to walk all over you (and the rest of us) like that. _

_ Sent him to Bantling; he left a lot quieter than he came. _

_ Didn’t get me in trouble with Tholme, but Tholme...laughed when I told him? It was weird. _

_ Tholme said to let him know if I get through to Jinn like that again, the Council would love having someone who can wrangle him. _

_ I don’t want to wrangle him! He’s your master! I want to be in the field, not dogging a stubborn master for the rest of my life. _

Obi-Wan snickered a bit. The quick succession of messages indicated panic, but even the mental image of Vos alternating between panicking and pissed off at Jinn or the Council was amusing.  _ If you’re free right now, comm me. I need a distraction. _

It didn’t take long for his ringtone to sound softly. “Ooh, boredom!” exclaimed Quinlan. “You do the best things when you’re bored!”

Laughing, the redhead countered, “Says the guy who earned seventeen punishments in five days!”

“And this from the one who came in second, Kenobi!”

Adopting a lofty air, Obi-Wan scoffed. “With a mere fifteen!”

They both cracked up, laughing happily together until an easy silence fell. “... So,” Vos started, breaking the quietude, “I know Jinn kriffed up and knows it. Who else is in for it?” When his friend didn’t answer immediately, the Kiffar sighed. “Obi, I know you. You wouldn’t be in need of a distraction, even considering whose quarters you’re sharing now, if you weren’t letting some kind of paybacks settle into a plan in the back of your head. You’d be out and about, pestering your friends, and I miss that. So what can I do to help?”

That suddenly, it was crystal clear to the redhead. “You said Jinn didn’t get you in trouble, he’s  _ that  _ serious about making up for his...actions?”

Confused and cautiously delighted by the change of topic, Vos slowly agreed. “Yeeeaaaahhhh…. Why?”

“The will of the Force, this must be,” Obi-Wan stated impishly. It was probably not a coincidence that he reminded Quinlan strongly of Master Yoda.

  
  
  


Qui-Gon Jinn entered his quarters to find the padawan he had wronged sitting on his couch , waiting for him. There was something hidden that he couldn’t decipher in the eyes watching him; it felt...ominous. Like Tahl on a rampage headed toward him, but more subtle.

So the master drew in a breath and admitted, “I am...not sure how to even start making amends, but I know they are owed. So I asked Vos and Eerin for advice, because they are your friends and know you better than I do.” A quick glance showed the padawan still waiting, watching. “Vos told me off and sent me to Eerin,” and here his mouth quirked up in a small smile, “but Eerin was willing to be a bit more helpful. That said, I would rather you speak to me if there are problems between us, though I consider close friendships sacrosanct, especially given what I have done so far to push you away.”

Obi-Wan stared at him, silent, assessing only. His fingers twitched, a telltale sign that he was thinking, but the youth made no other move.

“It will be a goal, I think, to reach a point where neither of us is concerned about reaching out to the other for needs.” The master paused and stroked his beard as he pondered. “For now, I will be content if you agree to speak to either of those friends of yours who spoke to me and have them mediate.”

After a long, critical pause, Obi-Wan nodded. “I can agree to that.”

“Good.” And it was, because Qui-Gon had half thought he might end up having to grovel or chase his padawan down and corner him until they worked things out, he had that much of a wild creature’s attitude about him now. “Are you hungry?”

  
  
  


Obi-Wan sat down to the pitiful excuse of a meal his master had made and deliberated with himself on how to broach the topic he had in mind. Pranking like he was considering was serious business, because getting caught risked expulsion, not merely minor punishments. He ate more out of habit than for any liking of what had been prepared, but he supposed that everyone had weak points.

Well. Start with a currently relevant matter? He could do that. So he said, “Master, thank you for trying, but it might be better if I cook from now on.”

Qui-Gon perked up. “You can cook?”

The padawan shook his head. “No,” he confessed, “but if I can follow a blueprint, I can follow a recipe.”

Jinn wasn’t sure if the backhanded insult in that was intentional or not. “...we can give it a shot,” agreed the master.

As Obi-Wan opened his mouth, an exuberant blow hit the door to their quarters and Tachi’s voice called out, “I know you’re in there, Kenobi, come on already!”

Master and padawan traded a look.

“I’m sorry, Master. I wasn’t expecting her. Do I need to send her away or may I go?”

Jinn sighed. “You may go,” he allowed. “Be back no later than six standard. And, here, give me your comm a moment.” He held out a hand imperiously, then added his comm code to the device and returned it. “Tell me what you want to cook tonight and I’ll pick up ingredients.”

That drew a small smile. “Very well, Master.” He bobbed a quick bow—entirely insufficient had anyone else been watching, but amusing—then slipped to the door and opened it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if a gargoyle was coming after me,” chided Obi-Wan.

“Can it, Kenobi,” was the girl’s smooth retort. “Vos has some papers he wants us to go over as a group.”

Her phrasing no more fooled the master than it had her friend, who graced her with a dubious yet fond expression and chivied her out the door.

Alone in the silence, Qui-Gon chuckled. “Oh, dear. I wonder what they’re about to get up to?” But it was the first sign of spirit he’d seen in his padawan since their mission ended; he wasn’t about to spoil that.

  
  
  


Siri dragged her friend along by the wrist until she found a well hidden alcove they could duck into. Out of sight, she hissed, “Has he pushed at all?”

Perplexed, Obi-Wan frowned at her. “Not yet. Why?”

“Because I’m your friend and I  _ worried,  _ you ass!” She pulled away when her comm beeped; it was Quinlan, wondering if she’d been able to fetch him.

“I--shit. I’m sorry, Siri. It wasn’t intentional.” Earnest eyes conveyed even more of an apology than his words could.

She relented. “I know, Obi. It’s not in your nature to hurt people you care about like that.” Honestly, she added, “More mine.” They both chuckled. “Took me off guard, though.”

He smiled ruefully at her, then held out his arms. She surged forward and seized him, hugging tight as she could. “I’ll work on it, Siri.”

They pulled apart and headed for Quinlan, not a word more necessary. It was a comfortable silence. And the moment the door shut behind them and they were hidden from prying eyes and ears, Vos pounced.

“Damn it, Kenobi!” rasped the older youth. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Don’t scare  _ us  _ like that,” Siri corrected sternly.

Obi-Wan could only blink as he returned the embrace and set his chin on Quinlan’s shoulder. It was a tight grip, suggestive of a series of unkind visions. “Hey,” he said softly. “Would skin help or make it worse?”

Siri’s eyes narrowed as it clicked. “Shit, Quin, you’re seeing things?”

“Shut up,” growled the Kiffar. But he loosened his grip on Obi-Wan and slid one hand down to push a sleeve and clasp his friend’s wrist.

It wasn’t entirely a pleasant experience, even with the assurance of live friends close by. It  _ was  _ awkward; retrocognition—seeing the past—happened through touch. Obi-Wan had just risked life and limb in a disaster involving his master’s former padawan and there had been much blood and death. Master Gallia had come to him after the briefing was over, apologized for events that were out of her control; it had lessened his resentment toward her and somewhat also toward the Council as a whole—

Vos  _ squeezed,  _ rumbled a low growl that segued into a soft whine. Kenobi winced. “Quin, I’m right here,” he told the older boy.

No response.

Sharing a worried glance with Siri, the newer padawan thought back on the lessons they’d had which covered visions in the creche. Contact might or might not help, but talking would work if it was someone they wanted to listen to?  _ Kriff, why don’t they start teaching us important things like this younger? _ But there was no time for recriminations, not with Quinlan still so caught up in whatever he was seeing.

Obi-Wan tilted his head until his skull pressed against the Kiffar’s. “Hey, come on now, can you follow my voice back? Quin? It would make us feel better if you came back now, please. Siri’s worried too; if you let her think it’s her fault,” he swallowed audibly, not mentioning that he would blame himself just as much as she would, “Master Tholme will follow you in and kick your ass.” 

Vos wheezed. “Fuckin’...threaten me...with my...own master,” he muttered, struggling to regulate his breathing. He tucked his face further into the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. “Asshole.” It was muffled.

“Damn, Vos,” Siri murmured. “Way to scare your friends!”

His head turned away from her, tucking under Kenobi’s chin, even though he had to duck down to do so. “...sorry,” he managed after a bit.

“It got bad, huh?”

Quiet, manic laughter. “Sometimes I want to take my skin off, but I think it still wouldn’t stop the visions.”

“Shit, Quin!” breathed Obi-Wan. “Haven’t you told your master yet?”

The answer was obviously no.

Siri eyed them narrowly, then said, “You need gloves, Vos.”

“What?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Kenobi agreed. “The way you talked, it seems like this is triggered by touching things. New gloves shouldn’t have much attached to them that would cause visions.” He paused. “But you still need to talk to your master about this. Don’t make us lose a friend to visions out of stubbornness, Quin. Please.”

From the firm stance Siri took, she felt the same. Vos took a deep breath, braced himself, and stepped back from Obi-Wan. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He paused, fighting off misery and embarrassment, then asked, “Come with me?”

They watched Quinlan carefully not look at them, but it didn’t even need to be discussed. Obi-Wan replied, “Yeah, we’ll go with you.”

Siri nodded.


End file.
